The Gallery
by Toph the Trickster
Summary: The gallery of Palace Britannia held the most coveted of collection. On this particular day, however, the Ninety-ninth empress decided to look through the paintings at one isolated section, and look at moments past. LLxCC


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion. If I did, there would have been more scenes containing this particular pairing.

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_**Word Prompt:**_ Painting.

_**Story word count:**_ 2,149 words, not including notes.

_**Genre:**_ I'm putting this under romance only, but you tell me if I should change / add to it.

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**The Gallery**

_Document on the Internet By_

_**Toph the Trickster**_

The sun shone through the many glass windows of Palace Britannia, coating the golden stone of the Central hall in a warm radiance.

Silence was a common factor to the daily life within this estate, residence of the Demon King during the first half of his reign, and current home of his widow after his death. Few people stayed within the building, no one besides the aforementioned woman, and whoever was stationed on guard detail at the time as the servants had a whole building to themselves that had been built on the estate grounds some time after she took over as empress; subsequently leaving the large building devoid of sound, or life, by extension.

Of course, this silence would cause even the smallest of disturbances to echo off the tall walls and resound through the structure.

Thus, the clicking of heels could be heard through the Central hall, the purple train of its owner's dress dragging along the marble floor as she walked through the rays of sunlight.

The woman was young, especially for one that had once occupied the position she did: sixteen years of age, golden eyes and lime hair that fell to her waist. She was dressed in black, golden embroidery, gems, and precious metals decorating her dress and hair, a rather odd choice of color for the occasion.

_But one that gives me the feel of nostalgia._ She couldn't help but add, her lips curling up ever so slightly as she felt the heat of the morning sun caress her revealed back.

She walked onward, her long hair swaying with her movement and the dangling gems clinking against each other with each step she took that brought her closer to her destination:

-The Gallery of Palace Britannia.

It was always something of a mystery –to many, at least – what the gallery contained, considering the fact that out of the multitude of art pieces kept within its four corners, only three had ever been released to the public.

This fact, combined with the curiosity that was natural to human nature, made way for a interesting question:

What secrets were housed in the art gallery of Palace Britannia?

_Such questions are meant to be answered not with words, but with sight. _The woman though as she crept all the closer to the double doors; a work or art itself, the entrance to the gallery served as both portal and preview to the culture that was to come: made of redwood and decorated with ivory latticework, snakes of gold and silver slithering up and down the openings in the white.

She found herself, like on many occasions, admiring the beauty the door presented to onlookers: _-Almost to the point that one would rather look at it then enter the gallery._

Rolling her eyes at her dry humor, she reached out and pushed.

Joints creaked under the pressure -despite the fact that the mechanical parts were well-maintained- as the spans of wood gave way to the former empress who expressed her desire to pass.

And, so behold: The Gallery!

It was maze of ivory and gold, twists and turns of marble columns that lined the aisle with a rich shine as the windows from above drove the sunlight in, bouncing off the precious metals and bone, shading everything around her in yellow.

_How __**heavenly**__. _She commented, noting that the way the light affected the surroundings made the area appear unearthly, almost ethereal or fleeting, to a point.

She walked on after a short sigh, her gaze passing tapestries, portraits, and sculptures that most of the world had yet to see.

But those were not what she came here to see; for she, Catherine vi Britannia, had come here to inspect a rather _specific_ collection.

-And so she went, taking a left at one corner, several rights at another, walking up a flight of steps, and moving straight down the corridor that lay before her; a corridor –pillars, floors, and walls- made of flawlessly-cut, white marble which was then shaded with the colors of the stained-glass caricatures of avians and angels that served as the chamber's ceiling.

She swept her glance over the sight that stood before her, the vision of the collection she wished to view:

She wasted no time, swiftly pacing to the first painting that caught her attention:

It was a piece on canvas, like all the paintings one would find hung upon the gallery walls.

It was what was _printed_ on the canvas, however, that caught her eye:

Catherine stared at the two people in the painting: Zero, the tails of his cape fluttering with every movement of the wind, and herself, the latter of which was dressed in her Black Knight's dress, standing side-by-side at the docks of Penglai.

The art, style, color, and stroke, gave off a feeling on its own, as though telling the viewer of what the two people in the picture felt at the time.

The style was rough, colors smudged slightly in the direction opposite the painting's light source: the setting sun, at the time, giving the painting an abstract feel that didn't seem to apply because the figures were still too defined to be considered as such. It gave the woman a feel of emotion, wild and untamed yet hidden from the world, and content to remain within the shadows:

_-Pressure, anticipation, hesitation, to name a few._ The woman took a deep breath. _The time with the Black Knights, especially after Lelouch's one-year disappearance, was filled with sleepless nights and bothersome situations. _She released the air with a sigh.

The former queen found herself blinking several times, taking in more of the painting's setting then any other detail. _This was during our time in China, shortly after Lelouch took over as Zero again._

"_**Two in Black"**_

_Photo taken by_

_**Shinozaki Sayoko,**_

_Water Color on Canvas by_

_**Jeremiah Gottwald**_

She thought of the scene, remembering how they had gotten together at the docks in the first place: It happened the day following their arrival, when she and Lelouch had just concluded a meeting with most of the other commanding Black Knights; they had been walking to the lift that led to their room using the seaside path when they took sight of the sunset and ended up standing there till night fell, neither noticing the time until Kallen had called to them through the cafeteria window, and the sudden chill that crept up their bodies as the frigid evening air blew in.

_He needed the short reprieve from all the work, _She felt herself smile mischievously. _At least he wasn't alone on such a cold night._

They were the sight of many a Black Knight that day.

Catherine found herself smiling; the relaxed air the piece of work exuded affected her in some way.

_Perhaps it's because I was in it?_ She pondered as she took several steps back, into the center of the path. _Or perhaps it is because Lelouch was there to enjoy such a peaceful moment, something we found as a scarcity during the time._

It was several moments before she thought of the one point she had missed throughout her critique of the piece: _I never noticed Sayoko take a picture, though._ She observed. _Maybe I'll take a copy next time I speak to her._

She began to walk on, looking through each of the pieces until she arrived at another object of interest, this time looking at the title first:

"_**At Akasha"**_

_Oil on Canvas by_

_**Christoph Zar**_

She ignored the painter's name, knowing the man would not care to be acknowledged for this particular piece of work.

The setting of this particular painting, unlike anything a viewer would have expected, was at a place anyone could only dream of going to.

_-The Sword of Akasha._ Catherine thought as she looked at the sight of the orange sky and the stone temple. _I'm assuming this painting was made to set after Charles and Marianne were killed. A painting made from the imagination of the artist, who had been basing it on an actual event._

Unlike the previous work, this painting's lines and borders were more well-defined, the colors ending at whatever limits were set for them by the painter, giving the painting a feel of cool and control.

It was Lelouch and she, both dressed in whatever they had worn during the encounter with the Ninety-eighth emperor and the last's wife. The former pair stood facing the viewer of the painting; although, rather then looking at the viewer, the male and female duo were more intent on looking at each other, purple meeting gold in an understanding exchange.

_Yes, understanding __**is**__ the right word for it._ She thought, thinking back. _We always were, somehow, able to understand each other. _She looked to the painting once more. "A symbolism, perhaps?" she said aloud, this time. "An understanding that stood true, even before the gods?"

She shook her head, giggling slightly at the idea.

"How cliché." She raised her head to look at the painting again, her eyes starting to glisten. "There is very little, if anything at all, about Lelouch or I that is cliché." She spun on her heel, walking to her next object of interest:

A photograph, resized to fit the three-by- two foot picture frame, of her and the emperor; during the little private talk they had had after Lelouch learned of Nunnally's survival of the FLEIJA detonation at Tokyo, with the Demon King sitting at the edge of the bed, and CC leaning against his back:

"_**Ninety-Nine"**_

_Photo taken and edited by_

_**Anya Alstreim**_

_Maybe it is a reference to our placing as emperor and empress?_ She thought with amusement. _This is another way to describe our relationship. _"He needed comfort, after knowing that he would have to face off against the sister he adored most."

She remembered the time in great detail; the soft touches, and the comfortable silence they reveled in for hours was what preceded the Damocles rebellion for them.

_But how did she get a hold of this, I wonder?_ She thought with a raised eyebrow, trying to remember what details of the chamber she could.

Her eyes widened.

_Of course! The security cameras!_ The former queen shook her head. _Trickery and deceit…_ she paused at the idea of the two words.

She smiled.

_To make the viewer think of the honesty kept within that room, the lack of masks between Lelouch and I, and the comfort that we shared during this trying time._ The woman fought to regain composure at that point, feeling the memories slowly come to the surface, now two years concluding her late husband's death.

Catherine moved on, going straight past every other painting in the room.

She looked up, taking in the sight of the painting that was hung at the very end of the elaborate gallery hallway, one that had only been hung several hours preceding her entry into the gallery, when all others, herself included, were asleep:

This one felt ethereal, presenting a moment that one could never see as a reality; the way lines seemed to blur and the colors seemed to smudge slightly with each stroke of the painter's brush. The way the artist accentuated light, making the glows seem brighter to an unearthly extent.

It was intricate, to say the least: each detail of the fluttering pink petals colored in to a fault, the image of Cherry Blossom orchard that grew across the lake to the palace, taking in the detail of the building in the background.

It was her, CC, dressed in the very garb she now wore, cupping her hands to catch the petals as flowery rain fell to the ground, her smile as undeniable as the joy apparent in her eyes, with the whites, yellows, and golds of the world making her smile appear all the brighter.

She brought her, now glistening, orbs to the title, her breath bating as she saw the artist's name:

"_**The Empress of Blossoms"**_

_Oil on Canvas By_

_**Lelouch vi Britannia**_

And, on the artist's signature at the lower-right edge of the painting, the strokes of black brush said:

"_**Happy Valentine's, my dear;**_

_**I love you."**_

_-The Devil, himself._

She felt here eyes close, the tears now flowing freely down her face.

He rarely ever said the line; always making sure the words would match the situation perfectly.

_You were always one for dramatization, Lelouch. _She wrapped her arms around herself. _Even beyond death, you impress me with your originality._

She looked up, opening her eyes to stare at the image of the horned demon upon the stained glass above her, her gold eyes meeting the demon's purple ones; she remembered today's occasion:

"Happy Valentine's, Lelouch;" she smiled, her golden orbs shining with bittersweet emotion. "I love you, too."

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**Notes and References:**

_**Palace Britannia**_ – This was the residence of Lelouch during the first few months of his reign, preceding the Damocles Rebellion. It should be noted that this is a different location from Palace Pendragon which was destroyed by FLEIJA.

_**The Devil, himself**_ – I felt that this point would function a little better for this story, as the two creatures (the witch and the devil) are similar in some senses yet different in others. Since both are magical, yet one his human and the other is larger than life.

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**Author's Notes:**

I had originally intended to have more paintings than the ones I had featured now. Unfortunately for me, I had run out of ideas, and I didn't want to lose too much momentum thinking of what to add, so I just decided to _**attempt**_ (note keyword) to visualize the points of Lelouch and CC's relationship via what paintings I _did_ post.

Also, this is my first one-shot, and I would appreciate what input you are willing to give me.

Do tell me what you think

Sincerely,

Toph the Trickster


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